


Where No Island Should Go

by enbyboiwonder



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e06 Elliott's Pond, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Pre-Slash, basically slashy gen, why do i hurt myself like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 13:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyboiwonder/pseuds/enbyboiwonder
Summary: "Prentiss is staying, those kids all got home all right… isn't that a happy ending?"Reid smiles briefly, unconvincingly.  "Yeah," he says; "It is."





	Where No Island Should Go

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Death Cab for Cutie's [Transatlanticism](https://youtu.be/O07WK7-ZkHs), which I have been listening to on repeat for the past forever, pretty much.
> 
> Don't be fooled by the lack of tag—Reid's agender, they're just not out to Luke yet. I'm hoping to make this into a series, in which case it will happen at some point, but, well, we'll see how that goes (I have a lot in my head, but I have a terrible track record when it comes to getting anything onto paper, as it were, so).
> 
> Goddammit, Hotch, you know that boi has abandonment issues. Couldn't you have talked to them?? I'm getting flashbacks to Gideon.
> 
> After I finish CSI, I'm getting properly back into crimminds.

It's quiet in the cabin but for the hum of the engines, a hush matching that of the night outside having since fallen over them as the agents retreated to their own corners and dozed off one after another. Reid's usually the first to fall asleep, curled up across two seats or the length of the couch, his satchel shoved under his head like a pillow, but tonight, he isn't sleeping at all. From under his lashes, Luke watches the good doctor, who's sitting in the window seat diagonally across from him, book lying forgotten on the table, his arms crossed over his chest and shoulders hunched inward, forehead resting against the glass while his eyes stare out past even the city lights tracing ley lines of white and gold far below.

He almost feels as if he's intruding, and he closes his eyes, but within moments, he's opening them again, observing; he can't let it go, can't let Reid go on thinking that he has to go it alone, whatever 'it' is.

"Hey," he calls softly. Reid tears himself away from his contemplation of the inky black outside the window and blinks at him, unsurprised. "What's up? Prentiss is staying, those kids all got home all right… isn't that a happy ending?"

Reid smiles briefly, unconvincingly. "Yeah," he says; "It is."

As Reid's eyes drop to the table for a few moments before finding their way back to the window, Luke lets his gaze linger, flicking over him, trying to suss out what he can from the man's demeanor: his drawn brows; his broody, dark eyes; his lips pursed in the slightest of pouts; his crossed arms pulled close as if to ward off some internal trouble—not trying to profile, just… trying to be a good friend, trying to see if there's anything he _can_ do. At a loss, he flounders a bit, ready to let it go for now—though not for good, not unless Reid wants him to—when he remembers the news they got that morning, before the case.

"Is it Hotch?" he asks, voice hushed. "I know you two were close."

Reid snorts inelegantly. "That's one way of putting it. We're dating. Were. I guess this means we're not anymore."

Luke leans forward, bracing his arms on the table. "Spencer—"

"I _know_ how private Aaron is; I worked with him for over eleven years. But we were— We all but lived together, I— I thought he would tell me this. I didn't even know Scratch had gone after our—after Jack until this morning." He shakes his head once, sharply, his lips pressing into a thin, unhappy line as he blinks quickly. "I don't begrudge him entering Wit Sec, not at all, I'd have done the same in his position, I'd just…" His breath catches, and he takes a moment, swallowing thickly. "He didn't even say goodbye," he whispers, voice small and broken.

He looks so despondent that Luke can't but reach out, gentle in his offer of comfort, but Reid withdraws, hugging his arms tighter to himself, and Luke lets him. "I'm sorry," he offers instead.

Reid nods a few times to himself, accepting, closing his eyes before breathing deeply and turning back to the window. Luke sits back as well, watching the doctor a few moments longer before allowing his own eyes to drift closed again.

It's moments or hours later when he feels a shift, feels Reid's eyes on him. Blinking back to full wakefulness, he finds the doctor watching him as he knew he would be, dark eyes unsure, and Luke gets it.

"Yeah," he says, and scoots over to make room, holds his arms out in invitation. "Come here."

Reid doesn't need to be told twice, is sliding out of his seat and coming around the table before Luke can blink, folding himself comfortably into Luke's arms in one smooth motion, fitting perfectly against his side. Luke lets out a surprised huff of laughter at the sudden lapful of gangly scientist that he finds himself with, and Reid tenses almost imperceptibly before shifting as if to move away.

"Shh, no, I'm not laughing at you," he soothes, briefly tightening his hold around Reid; Reid stills. "I find it endearing that you turn into an octopus. I didn't entirely expect that."

Reid shrugs one shoulder and relaxes back into him. When he speaks again, his voice is low and muffled into Luke's shirt, and Luke holds his breath to hear. "At home, I have a weighted blanket that I use when I'm upset. Or sometimes Aaron would lie on top of me, like cats to. Starfishing is a close substitute."

His chest tightens imagining it, knowing what Hotch and Reid were to each other and that still Hotch could do this, could hurt him like this. He runs his fingers soothingly through Reid's unruly curls, and as the doctor's breathing starts to even out into that of rest, he privately and fiercely thinks that, smart as he is, Hotchner must be an idiot to let a man as amazing and wonderful as Spencer Reid go.

**Author's Note:**

> Can I just say that it feels weird using he/him pronouns for Reid? I haven't done that since the day I started watching crimminds, save for one fic I'm working on that's from Hotch's POV before Reid's out to him.


End file.
